


there's gonna come a day when you feel better

by taakos



Series: for the damaged coda [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Explicit Language, Fix-It of Sorts, Original Character(s), Recovery, Survivor Guilt, Uchiha Sasuke-centric, anyway. sasuke deserves better, haha my name is naruto and i wanna be a dictator when i grow up UwU, i hate this fucking show but i love sasuke and this is the result, konoha! fucking! sucks!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-17 18:49:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16979874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taakos/pseuds/taakos
Summary: After being imprisoned for an astonishingly short amount of time, Sasuke didn’t immediately leave Konoha. He couldn’t, of course, because he was – to put it very gently – “unwell”. Both in the physical and mental sense.(Sakura said both of these things to his face while making deliberate, unblinking eye contact. It was unnerving and made him flush for some reason, so he nodded very quickly.)





	there's gonna come a day when you feel better

After being imprisoned for an astonishingly short amount of time, Sasuke didn’t immediately leave Konoha. He couldn’t, of course, because he was – to put it very gently – “unwell”. Both in the physical and mental sense.

(Sakura said both of these things to his face while making deliberate, unblinking eye contact. It was unnerving and made him flush for some reason, so he nodded very quickly.)

The physical aspect was healed easily enough. He was down an arm, but it could’ve been worse. By all rights, he should’ve been down a beating heart and a breathing set of lungs. 

(It is a strange thing to live on despite knowing you deserve otherwise. Despite not exactly wanting to go on.)

The feeling of phantom fingers flexing was not particularly pleasant. Looking down and not seeing a limb where it was expected to be was disturbing, to the say the very least.

(Sasuke didn’t feel very sorry for himself, though. To lose a literal part of yourself in a fight driven by a haze of so many emotions that it was difficult to differentiate between any of them. It was poetic, really — in a sad, ironic sort of way. It fit into the grand, finite tapestry that was the Uchiha Clan with the utmost grace.)

On top of his newfound disability, the doctors were in a state of bafflement when they saw some of his scars. The ones on his remaining hand were a source of great incredulity because of their origin. Lightning-like figures raced down his palm and ended just below his wrist. He haltingly explained Kirin’s high-risk, high-reward development cycle and in-combat use.

(He had been stared at many times in his life, but never had he felt so confused as to why.

“You used your chakra to shape and guide lightning into a chimerical beast that you strike enemies down with?”

A small nod.

“How are you alive?”

A pause. “Good question.”)

Another great source of bewildered doctors were his blood tests. It wasn’t really a secret that he had been experimented on during his time with Orochimaru, but this, apparently, was absolutely unexpected.

“You have copious amounts of venom and poison mixed into your bloodstream. Why?” One whose name escaped him asked, distracting him from the general anxiety needles brought him.

“Orochimaru wanted to take my body. I would suppose he didn’t want death by venom or poison to be an option.” He replied flatly, as if it were normal and an objective fact.

After being declared an apparent medical mystery, Sasuke was released from one part of the hospital and sent to another.

Good mental health and the shinobi lifestyle did not go well to together, for multiple, very obvious reasons. Even the best ninja, who compartmentalized every instance of bloodshed and held firm in their vows, were often left scarred by their profession and what they had done for “prosperity’s” sake.

(Kakashi, for one, still had nightmares that were actually memories from his time in ANBU. They had grown infrequent over the years, but did not leave him alone. Just like his old team hadn’t.)

Sasuke met with a psychologist who primarily dealt with patients who knew S-Class rank information or were classified as a possible threat to the state, should their loyalty fall into question. He, of course, was both, so it was a good match.

(It was a doubly good match because this particular doctor was very sympathetic. "Sympathetic" meaning that she wanted to more or less ignore the orders she received, which were essentially to tame, shame, and discourage a venomous snake into calm compliance, making it unlikely to bite the hand that feeds it. The Konohan state was not necessarily interested in assets’ wellbeing, but rather whether its weapons were in good enough shape to function appropriately without breaking to the point of irreparability.

She had enough experience to be able to recognize victims. She had enough empathy that she was prepared to risk her life if it meant someone else would suffer less. She knew enough about their reality to disobey the powers that be.

“First, do no harm” was a conviction difficult to actually live by, but she could do this much. She could dull the blade, even if by a little bit.)

Dr. Jiro had already been informed of her patient’s wish to leave Konoha for an extended period of time, provided he was both pardoned and deemed fit to travel alone.

“You deserve to recover somewhere that isn’t the place where your clan was massacred, Sasuke. Perhaps, if you find peace out there, you can learn to be content here, someday. I’m sure you have a lot to think about.”

He did; so, together, they made a list. One of reminders and self-improvement.

(The only reason, Sasuke thought, he was complying to any of this came down to how he was feeling. Which was not very good. He supposed it was comparable to how he felt after he killed Itachi. That sudden emptiness of realizing his life’s endgame was complete. Of realizing it didn’t feel anywhere as good as he imagined it would. Of realizing he didn’t know who he was without that familiar desperate, seething anger.

His path of vengeance had ended once he and Naruto had nearly killed each other, and he was left — just being. He was not happy or sad. He just was and it didn’t feel very good.

He had a feeling the psychologist picked up on it. After all, he was a very goal-orientated person.)

Some of the things on the list were simple, others were not. Things like “you are not alone”, “know that there will be people who hate you and you will sometimes deserve it”, “it takes time to be forgiven”, and “be selfless when you can”.

Dr. Jiro was surprisingly kind and patient, but in a no-bullshit way that reminded Sasuke of one of his aunts.

(He couldn’t remember her name, though. He wished he could. He wished he could remember a lot of things from before he had his Sharingan, before the blood of his entire clan was spilled upon the streets of their own district.)

After multiple sessions and two weeks, the list had been revised and finished. It was promptly memorized with his Sharingan, so it was impossible he would forget. Then, came the actual therapy sessions. The ones that involved actual talking about his emotions and various traumas.

Needless to say, he was unenthused.

There were days where Sasuke would not speak. Could not speak. He would sit in the admittedly very comfortable chair across from the doctor and feel so much conflict in his own mind that if something were to go wrong (again, for the thousandth time), he might break and not put himself back together again.

Therapy, he discovered, made him feel small. Like the child he was once, grieving and hurt and so, so helplessly confused. He had been lied to his entire life, and for what? To keep him safe, to let him clean the Uchiha name? Look how well that turned out.

On other days, however, it was like there was pain leaking out of him without his permission. 

“You don’t have to forgive Itachi, you know. You don’t owe him that.” Dr. Jiro murmured as she studied his body language.

He cleared his throat, though it did him no good as his voice came out choked and unsteady. “W–why would he let me live if he loved me? How could he? He jus– he fucking left me in the place that ordered our entire bloodline to be wiped out!”

She hummed in acknowledgement, knowing he would not look at her while so vulnerable.

“H-he should’ve killed me. That would have been kinder. I wouldn’t be like–– like this. Whatever I am now.” Sasuke’s hand trembled as he felt his eyes burn with what might’ve been tears or his newly mismatched dōjutsu chakra-flaring.

“And just what are you, now?” The doctor asked, her voice low and without judgement.

“I–I don’t know.”

“Think of the list. You’re Sasuke Uchiha. You love your brother and hate him at the same time, which is perfectly understandable given the circumstances. You have friends who have repeatedly risked their lives for you and would gladly do it again. You hurt them, but they know why, and are willing to forgive you because they love you.

“More than that, though, you are your own person. You have thoughts and feelings. You’re entirely capable of making decisions by yourself, whether they be good or bad. You didn’t and don’t deserve the tragedies you’re haunted by, but you’re recovering. Be patient with yourself. It’s a work-in-progress. Just like you.”

Sasuke sat there, more than a little startled by Dr. Jiro’s words. It wasn’t a bad thing, though.

He felt calm and, for the first time in a long while, okay. Maybe it was the way she said it, like it was all imperial fact. Like he couldn’t argue against it. Like the world had slowed and he could finally see what everyone else did.

He didn’t know what he did to earn this kindness, but as his hands slowly began to stop shaking, he felt grateful. Grateful enough that he could have wept, if he weren’t himself. Things could’ve been so much worse, but thanks to his bonds, they weren’t. And maybe it was enough.

That’s how it went for a couple of weeks. Off-days, on-days, regular days. The calm stayed, leaving him introspective. He knew one thing for certain: he could not stay in Konoha for much longer. Not as he was now; it wouldn’t do himself or anyone else much good.

Despite feeling significantly more physically there, Sasuke knew for a fact he would grow irritated sooner or later. If there was one thing he couldn’t take, it was watching people tip-toe around him, as if he were either a monster or a glass figurine with cracks in it. 

(It reminded him too much of the few months after the massacre. Even as a young, newly orphaned child, it was like people were waiting to see him snap or break, or both. It got on his nerves very fucking quickly then, so it would be sooner rather than later now.)

Not to mention that if a civilian who felt a particular amount of spite tried to confront him, he just might kill or maim them out of pure reflex. Which would be bad. Since the Rinnegan had abilities he didn’t know about, and he had yet to figure out how to make it deactivate like his regular Sharingan, so he wasn’t all that willing to risk anything.

After three months of treatment, Sasuke was declared fit to be a shinobi and therefore okay to travel, pending a decision from the Hokage and council. With a pardon containing barely liberal conditions, he could leave and be free of the ghosts that haunted him in Konoha. Or, at least until his bonds called him back, like they always would.

**Author's Note:**

> did i write a fic with the sole purpose of complain-criticizing naruto, an anime bullshit extravaganza that falls apart instantly upon critique? perhaps
> 
> is the stealth communist therapist oc self insert-adjacent? who's to say!
> 
> anyway, this bitch was sitting in my notes, so i decided to free it and therefore give the gifts that are my Naruto Opinions™ in fic form to the world-at-large. you're welcome. no, you cannot regift them, that is a crime
> 
> p.s. it really is fucking bizarre that naruto grew up to be hokage. it makes about as much sense as harry potter becoming an auror. the only difference is that i hate kishimoto considerably less in comparison to jk "austerity is good" rowling and harry is a tolerable protag. i'm not bitter, i'm just Extremely Bitter
> 
> title from "up the wolves" by the mountain goats. i can't create original titles and you can't make me
> 
> sorry for making you read all of that. thanks for indulging my many sasuke uchiha feelings


End file.
